


What Causes It

by theramblinrose



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Can be read alone, Caryl, F/M, based on All The King's Horses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:22:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26803582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theramblinrose/pseuds/theramblinrose
Summary: Caryl, AU, One shot.  Based on the All the King’s Horses universe, but can be read alone.  They knew what caused it, but they just couldn’t help themselves.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Carol Peletier
Comments: 1
Kudos: 13





	What Causes It

AN: So, this was in response to a request from someone who wanted a “check in” at a later time to see Daryl with the larger family of All the King’s Horses. I hope this doesn’t disappoint.

It was part of a collection, but I’m deleting the collection and posting the pieces I’m not deleting separately.

If you have any requests, from any stories that I’ve done, for “missing,” “redone,” or “future” scenes, please don’t hesitate to let me know. I’ll write them down and then, hopefully, I’ll be able to come up with something that you’d like to see. 

I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think! 

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The one thing that Daryl never tired of hearing was some stranger making the comment “don’t they know what’s causing that”. 

That was a lie. He tired of it very easily. He found it to be one of the most annoying things in the world. But if he let them know that it got to him, then he really just felt like he’d failed somehow. Instead, he usually found some way to make a joke about. 

What he could never understand, though, was people’s need to worry so damn much about what he and his family were doing. He was happily married to a woman that, honestly, he couldn’t always believe was real. Even on the days when the best thing they could do for their relationship was get away from each other a few hours, he still wouldn’t have changed a single thing about his life. Together? They had three pretty amazing kids and they were counting down the time until they welcomed home number four. 

So while Daryl could understand that four kids, all of them under the age of eight, might seem a little overwhelming to some people, and could certainly seem like something they didn’t think was a great idea for their lives, what he couldn’t understand was why it mattered to them that he and Carol thought it was wonderful. After all, the strangers weren’t the ones that were launching into life with a newborn before Aubrey was entirely potty trained. They weren’t the ones that had to monitor sugar intake or face the music that they were going to be up all night. They weren’t the ones that were crunching numbers and cutting corners because they wanted a bigger house that gave their children more room to spread out and have their own space. 

Really, Daryl couldn’t see how it was anyone else’s concern at all. But everyone seemed to think it was something that they should somehow make a statement about, and most of them never missed an opportunity to pass some kind of judgment on them without knowing, even for a moment, the chain of events that had led them both to this place in their life together.

Aubrey rode happily in the grocery cart. In her hands, she held the small red box of animal crackers that she wasn’t allowed to open until she got to the car. The crackers—which were really cookies—were her favorite treat and she only got them for behaving in stores. One box each trip. She could hold them, the sweet promise of reward for good behavior, and she could admire them and name the animals printed on the box as she rode, but she couldn’t open them.

Sophia walked beside the cart, her fingers threaded into the metal of the large basket, and Russ usually walked up ahead a bit or sometimes rode standing on the end of the cart. Daryl knew, of course, that the riding was frowned upon by many parents—he’d heard that as well—but he honestly couldn’t care less. He was willing to wager that he could take three kids grocery shopping, buy enough food for his whole family to eat in a week, and get out of there before even one of the judgmental smart asses could finish with their “solo” shopping experience.

“I want that!” Sophia declared. 

Daryl slowed the cart to find what she was looking at. She walked over and pointed to a package of cookies.

“You get one thing,” Daryl said. “So, you want that or you want them fruit things you got on the last aisle?” 

Sophia walked back and peered into the cart to try to find what he was referencing. Her four-year-old memory couldn’t recall treats too long. It was part of the reason that, her shirt still stained with evidence to the contrary, she would insist that she never got any treats. Daryl reached in the cart, fished out the fruit things that she’d picked out, and offered them to her to measure up against the cookies. 

“This is fruit,” Sophia said. “This is cookies.” 

She looked at Daryl like this was the most reasonable thing ever said by a human being. 

“And you picking one of ‘em,” Daryl responded.

She drew in a deep breath and let out an overly dramatic huff. She shook her head at him.

“One of them is healthy food,” she said. “The other is a good treat for me.” 

“That ain’t real fruit,” Daryl said. “It’s sugar pretending to be fruit. The real fruit’s in here. Now which one you want?” 

Russ, having skipped on ahead to the end of the aisle, came skipping back to find out what was going on. The choice of treats was a common occurrence, though, so it didn’t take him more than a fraction of a minute to figure out that Sophia was stuck in the ever-repeating conundrum of trying to decide which one of her desires she would sacrifice.

“I know what I’m getting,” Russ informed them. 

“You’re gettin’ them cakes,” Daryl said.

Russ nodded.

“Yep,” he said. “And that’s all that I need because too much of ‘em rots your teeth and then you gotta get a shot in your mouth.”

Sophia, at just the thought of it, dropped the cookies on the floor. Daryl instructed her to pick them up, hoping to distract away from the horror of what Russ had learned when he’d asked a few too many questions to a grumpy Merle after a cavity filling, but it was too late. 

“Noooo!” Sophia screeched, the words growing ever more slurred as she moved through them. “No Daddy! I don’t want that! Nooo! Daddy! I don’t want a shot in my mo-outh...” 

Daryl glanced around even as he stepped toward Sophia to try to quieten her down. He scooped her up, bent over with her held against his body, and retrieved the lost cookies. Then, for good measure, he reached over and swatted Russ on the rear end before the boy could see it coming. 

“It’s true!” Russ protested immediately, acting as though the swat had done more damage than it had. Sophia, now inconsolable at the thought of this new form of torture thought up just for her suffering, was repeatedly informing Daryl—while apparently choking on her own spit—that she was entirely against this practice and it was nothing that she wanted in life. 

“Soph—calm down!” Daryl demanded. “You don’t got cavities and you brush your teeth when you’re supposed to, right?” 

“Uncle Merle don’t brush his teeth?” Russ asked. 

“Russell,” Daryl said, the only warning that he needed in the moment. Russ backed up and walked around the cart to put it between them.

“Soph—you don’t have cavities,” Daryl repeated. “OK? You do need a nap but...”

He shouldn’t have said that. Because suddenly her problem changed from being that she didn’t want cavities and shots in her mouth to the fact that she didn’t want to go to sleep. Going to sleep was the second worst type of torture known to mankind. 

Only slightly defeated, Daryl hoisted her up a little more onto his hip and shushed her while he put both the fruit treats and the cookies into the cart. There were battles to be fought, but this one wasn’t going to be one of them. He was tired, they were tired, and he wanted to go home. With any luck, Sophia would be half asleep by the time they checked out and she’d go out the rest of the way on the ride home so that he’d only have to transfer her to her bed for a nap. 

It took no more time for him to put the items into the cart than it took for Sophia to bury her face in his neck—the wetness there he decided to pretend was tears instead of probably a mix of snot and saliva—and to wrap her arms around his neck. 

One handed, he pushed the cart to continue his trip down the aisle. It wasn’t the most convenient way to grocery shop, but he prided himself on being flexible.

“Russ—go get two cans of the corn,” Daryl said when the vegetables were in sight. Russ did as he was told and stood waiting for Daryl to give him more orders. “Green beans. No—not them. The ones that says cut. That one. One over. That one. And—the peas and carrots. Little green peas and carrots.”

“Oh I don’t like those,” Russ protested. 

“I don’t care what’cha like,” Daryl said. “Put the can in the buggy. It ain’t gonna hurt you to eat peas.”

“You don’t know that,” Russ said. “What if they found out peas were bad for you? What if peas were bad for you and you and Mama make us eat peas all the time and then you find out that peas were like poison?” 

“Peas ain’t poison or we’da knowed it by now,” Daryl said.

Despite his need to argue—hopefully meaning he had a promising career in law ahead of him—Russ put the cans mournfully into the cart. 

“You’d feel really bad if they were,” Russ insisted.

“Right now—not as bad as you’d think,” Daryl said. The comment went over Russ’s head, of course, because he had already moved on. At six he was every bit as easily distracted as he’d ever been. In fact, that was really the only thing that Carol had to report from talking to his first-grade teacher. Russ was talkative and easily distracted. Carol had told Daryl that it was everything she could do to keep from laughing at the woman. This wasn’t, after all, exactly a news flash. 

Within ten minutes, Daryl had managed to roughly maneuver the cart through the store and get the last of the items that they needed. Every time he turned the cart, a task that was not at all easy with an armful of half-asleep Sophia, Aubrey laughed at him insisted that he do it “again”. At least, of all of his offspring, one of them was having a genuinely good time.

So, by the time he made it to the cash register and had Russ helping him load the groceries onto the belt, he was in no mood to hear the words that he never tired of hearing. Still, he heard them just the same from the woman behind him. She waited, while he had Russ help him load the bags into the cart again, until he was almost ready to leave and then she offered the words as a parting gift from the shopping experience.

She chose the route of laughing somewhat ironically while she said them—like she thought it was going to be the most original and hilarious thing that she ever said—and she leaned over to share them with the person who had checked out Daryl’s groceries. 

“I guess they don’t know what’s causing that,” she said, her voice low, but not quite low enough.

Daryl felt the hair on the back of his neck bristle and he looked at her. She glanced at him, but when she saw him looking at her, she looked genuinely shocked that he’d been able to hear her not-so-quiet words. 

“We know,” Daryl said. “But we’re so damn good at it—we just can’t seem to stop ourselves. But—you probably wouldn’t know nothing about that.” 

And despite the fact that Daryl knew he’d have to spend the whole way to the car, and possibly the whole way home, talking his way out of explaining the comment to Russ, it was worth it to see the look of shock—and maybe a little offense—that came across the woman’s face just before he bid her good day and wrestled his cart out of the store.

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By the time that Carol got home, Daryl had Sophia down for a short nap, Russ was playing in the backyard, and Aubrey was walking around eating animal crackers while she alternated between watching the cartoons that were on the television and “supervising” Daryl’s attempts to get dinner ready to go.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m late!” Carol declared as she came in the door. She stopped only long enough to hang her purse on the coat hook there before she came straight toward the kitchen and straight toward Carol. 

Aubrey immediately made a bee line for her and Carol scooped her up even as Aubrey reached her. She kissed her cheek and accepted the offering of a mushy and half-chewed animal cracker as a welcome home gift. Then she puckered her lips in Daryl’s direction, already anticipating his greeting.

Daryl kissed her and then he kissed Aubrey at her quick command of “Da Da” and her offered pucker. 

“I don’t care you’re late,” Daryl said. “But I was gettin’ kinda worried.” 

Carol made a face.

“They took forever,” she said. “I was waiting for an hour. And then when I left I just wanted to get home and I knew that you’d fuss if I called while I was driving.”

Daryl shook his head at her.

“Don’t matter,” he said. “You’re OK, though?” 

Carol smiled at him. 

“Perfect,” she said. Her voice sounded a little strange, and her face looked, perhaps, a little odd, but Daryl assumed it might have to do with the fact that she often got jittery on days when she had appointments. It would always take her a bit to come down entirely. 

He nodded. Despite the fact that he had the guarantee from her that there was nothing to worry about, he still felt his stomach twisting up in knots. She was later than she was supposed to be and he’d been slowly working himself up. It was going to take longer than a few seconds to unwind from that entirely. 

“They say anything?” He asked.

Carol raised her eyebrows at him. 

“Well—I found out what we’re having,” she said. 

Daryl swallowed.

“And?” He asked. He might have tried to read her face, but there was really no telling. He didn’t know what he expected, or what she expected, so there really wasn’t anything specific that he could look for in her expression. 

She smiled.

“You want to know?” She asked. “Because you don’t have to know if you don’t want to. It could all be a big surprise to you—if you wanted.” 

Daryl chuckled to himself.

“You gonna make me beg?” He asked, taking Aubrey when she requested the changing of arms.

“Well...” Carol said, clearly drawing it out as long as she could. “I guess—I got my answer to something I’ve been wondering about for a long time.” 

Daryl furrowed his brows at her. He couldn’t figure out what question Carol might have about any of this. After all, even though Russ wasn’t her biological child, she’d still given birth to two already.

“What answer did you get?” Daryl asked.

Carol made a face.

“It was your side of the family,” Carol said. “With Merle and Andrea? It was—your side of the family.” 

Daryl shook his head.

“Can I buy a damn vowel? Because I think I’m too tired to figure this out on my own,” Daryl admitted.

“The Tweedles?” Carol said. “They say it runs in families. Apparently—it’s a Dixon thing.” 

Daryl felt a flutter deep inside him that was unlike the feeling of the churning stomach that he’d had before. He must have made a face because Carol quickly took Aubrey out of his arms, put the little girl on the floor to trot back to her television show, and then declared to Daryl that he might want to sit down a minute. He could only shake his head at her—he was fine—because it took him a moment to find his tongue.

“You mean...?” He asked, not able to say it just yet.

“Two for the price of one,” Carol said. “That’s a bargain anywhere else.”

Daryl grabbed her and pulled her to him. She hesitated a moment before she wrapped her arms around him. 

“It’s a bargain here,” he said. “Just means—we got one more than we were planning on.”

Carol laughed, the sound coming out more like a nervous burst of air than anything. Russ hadn’t been planned. In some ways, Sophia hadn’t exactly been planned. At least, she wasn’t what she was planned to be. Aubrey had been a surprise to them. They’d gone into this baby—their last and Daryl had the appointment to prove it—intending it to be the first, and consequently the last, that they could say they planned entirely.

But the baby, or babies, seemed to already have a sense of humor.

Carol hugged him a moment longer and she accepted his kiss when they pulled apart. There were a few escaped tears on her face, proof that she must have thought he wouldn’t react well, and Daryl rubbed them away with his fingertips before he dropped a hand to her belly and patted it.

“You’re really not upset?” Carol asked, her voice making it clear that she still didn’t entirely trust his reaction.

He laughed to himself.

“Hell, Carol. What the hell is there to be mad about? We both know what caused it,” Daryl teased.

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AN: I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!


End file.
